Friday, November 20, 2009

I'm feeling pretty overwhelmed right now. I usually cry when I'm overwhelmed but I'm attempting to suppress it, as I usually do.

Tod...Yesterday was my birthday. I went to bed much past midnight and as I walked down the dorm hall from the bathroom to my own room I couldn't help but notice decorated doors. One was plastered in colorful signs with a big "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" banner hanging over the door way. Another was completely covered in Post-Its bearing the same message. I had watched them get decorated. I watched as girls from all over the dorm snuck up and one-by-one left their mark on the doorway. I didn't participated because I didn't know any of the girl's who's birthday it was. But secretly I was jealous.
At 1:00 in the morning I walked down the empty hall to my room. I tried to ignore the fact that my door was completely unadorned. I noticed that someone had taken the newspaper article I had clipped and posted on my cork board and put it under my room-mate's household (catholic sorority) status sign as if it were more important. I wondered if she had done it, or if a gust of wind caused by a hurried student late for class had blown it that way.

As I laid in bed I wanted to cry. I didn't want to be 18. 17 was scary enough. I didn't want the responsibility of being that old but it was utterly unavoidable. What of the freedom? I asked myself. What is the point of having freedom when it is only to be restricted even more when I go home for break? I tried to block out these thoughts with thoughts of what the day would bring. Nate would be coming in from New York. That thought allowed me to fall asleep.

The next morning I was in for a surprise. Roughly 6 pieces of paper had been hung on my door wishing me a happy birthday from all the RA's in my dorm. I tried to smile when I saw it, but it was hard. The thought was sweet, but they weren't my friends. They were the RA's. The stupid, annoying RA's that yell at John and I and constantly fine people for no good reason. They make up the rules as they go. They're the boss and we, the lowly freshmen, are their servants. I tried not to compare my door to those of the girl's down the hall. I tried to force back the hopeful thought attempting to break through my conscious control and tell me maybe once the other girls saw it was my birthday, they too would leave me notes. My rational, logical side argued differently. Once again I filled my mind with thoughts of Nate's visit.

I was so excited I could hardly sit still through my morning classes. I flew about cleaning my room in record time in preparation. I showered, did my hair and even got a little homework done.
It was so good to see him again. As soon as I saw his face that rush of security flowed over me. I recognized the familiar feeling of regularity and consistency from my days at camp. I couldn't believe he'd come to see me. Something like how he said "Hey Lady. Happy Birthday!" made me so happy. He even wished me a happy birthday twice. John and him and myself all went out to get Greek food for dinner after a grand tour of the school. After showing him around and telling him a bit about the school, I thought his mind was going to explode. He's so funny when small eyes try to bug out of his little head. The way he worded things made me laugh outwardly, but inwardly they reminded me just how bad this school is. He bugged me all night about the "chastity light" concept. He came up with some pretty funny jokes about it but it was still embarrassing. I never feel like I can explain properly to people why I'm here. They all look at me like I'm crazy for not leaving. But they don't understand why I don't, and I don't know how to explain it. I can't find a good way to say I'm doing this for John. Because I love him and I swore to myself (first) and him (second) that I would never, ever, abandon him again.

After Nate left I watched a movie with John while eating chocolate truffles and started doing my hair for formal tomorrow. After John left I got ready for bed. The room was quite. Laura was already in her bed watching a movie on her laptop. I finally let myself think. Once I did so, a rush of emotions came over me. I was so overwhelming I just wanted to break down and cry. But I hate crying in my room. It's not private here. So instead I decided to write.

I thought about how Mike had forgotten my birthday. How I hadn't gotten a single card in the mail. I thought about how very few friends I have here. Then, how very few friends I have anywhere. I thought about how those same six, lonely signs still hung on my door. I wondered how many times the girls I do know walked by them, saw them, and still never wished me a happy birthday. I tried to convince myself that birthdays weren't that big of a deal and that I hadn't ever really wanted to have this birthday in the first place. Then I realized something. My whole life has been spent searching for the attention I feel I never got as a child. Ever since I started high school I had been at a constant battle with myself. I strove for the thing I hated the most; attention. I hated it when people put me on the spot. I hated being in the spotlight. The worst was in class. I always wanted to be part of group conversations, but never had the guts to speak up because I didn't want people to look at me, to analyze what I had said. But what I realized tonight was that I don't want just attention. This whole time I have merely been searching for the love and attention I never got from my dad and I somehow, somewhere along the line, managed to convince myself that getting attention from everyone else would fill that hole if I got enough of it. I would beat myself up when I didn't get enough to fill that hole. I'd tell myself it was my fault. "If I wasn't so awkward...If only I was more outgoing....If I could just find a way to be confident..." But having Nate here helped me realize that I never will have a lot of friends, but the ones who I do have would do anything for me. Even drive out of their way to come see me on my birthday. Why? Because they love me. And having a few people love me is so much more fulfilling than having a hundred people pay attention to me. Honestly? I would rather sit around and eat gyros and drink eggnog in silence with people who love me than have a whole room full of people sing happy birthday and shower me with gifts.

I'm going to do what Mrs. D yelled at us this morning for doing and end this post abruptly.

Goodnight world.

PS: Thanks everyone who though leaving me a note on my facebook gave you free-pass not to say anything to my face today. You guys are the best ever.

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